Always Chasing My White Moonlight Omega - Chapter 20

The celebration banquet ended quickly. Ruan Yang was about to return to the film set, but Lu Yiye asked her to stay for the night and leave the next day.

Standing at the hotel entrance, Ruan Yang glanced up at Lu Yiye on the steps.

“No, thanks,” Ruan Yang said as she got into the taxi.

The sound of rain muffled most of her words, but Lu Yiye still heard her clearly: “Let’s just meet again when school starts, Yiye.”

Lu Yiye’s face instantly turned deathly pale.

Unconsciously, she took two steps forward, wanting to say something more to Ruan Yang. But Ruan Yang didn’t hesitate, she shut the car door and told the driver to go.

It was already the early hours of the morning. The driver, drowsy himself, drove slowly, yawning in his seat.

Ruan Yang sat alone in the back. On this sleep-drenched little island, she seemed the only one wide awake.

For years, she had gazed at Xu Zhiyi with near obsession, stubbornly convinced that Xu Zhiyi was the best person in the world.

No one was allowed to speak ill of Xu Zhiyi.

That was why she had so hastily cut off Lu Yiye’s words earlier.

The airport soon came into view. The director had already announced in the group chat that the two leads would return the next day and filming would resume.

Everyone replied with acknowledgments. Ruan Yang turned off her phone and boarded the plane.

The next day, Ruan Yang heard from the crew that Zheng Tang had returned first.

Apparently, she had arrived in a foul mood, immediately locking herself in the dressing room. No one dared disturb her.

Ruan Yang wasn’t the only one who had seen the tear glistening in Xu Zhiyi’s eye at last night’s awards ceremony, the entire internet had seen it, and it had trended all night.

Along with it came an overwhelming wave of skepticism about Zheng Tang winning the award.

Xu Zhiyi’s nominated film had been a box office hit with stellar ratings, and her performance in it was widely praised. Compared to the other nominees, no one believed Xu Zhiyi could lose so carelessly to Zheng Tang, who had been nominated for a web series.

After days of online backlash, Zheng Tang’s reputation had hit rock bottom.

Ruan Yang also heard that Zheng Tang had wanted to post a self-defense on social media but was stopped by her agent. Without evidence, mere words wouldn’t convince anyone.

Unable to even speak up, Zheng Tang grew even more frustrated. The sound of things being thrown and broken occasionally echoed from her dressing room.

It wasn’t until the afternoon that Xu Zhiyi finally returned.

Most of the crew knew which way the wind was blowing and rushed to comfort her. Xu Zhiyi maintained a faint smile throughout. From a distance, Zheng Tang watched the scene, her expression darkening further.

The director sensed the tense, awkward atmosphere between the two leads. After reviewing the script, he picked out some solo scenes for each of them, planning to shoot those first to avoid putting them together.

The assistant director took the crew to film Zheng Tang’s scenes, while the director assigned Su Xinzhi and Jing Ziqi to assist there. He then called Ruan Yang over to his side.

This particular scene had a lot of extras. After coordinating with them, Ruan Yang returned to the director just as Xu Zhiyi was getting her makeup touched up.

When Ruan Yang approached, Xu Zhiyi glanced up and smiled at the director. “Director Wu must think highly of this little assistant, assigning her to every task.”

Wu Jun glanced between the two of them and laughed heartily. “Zhiyi, why does your tone sound a bit off to me? On the surface, you’re saying I favor her, but what you’re really implying is that I’m dumping all the work on Xiao Ruan, aren’t you?”

As soon as these words were spoken, Ruan Yang also looked over.

Xu Zhiyi stood up, her tone light and airy, as if her earlier remark had been nothing more than an offhand comment. “I’m just concerned about the younger generation. I thought Director Wu hired these assistants to help them learn.”

“What kind of talk is that?” Wu Jun disagreed. “Of course, I brought them here to learn. Zhiyi, how could you think of me like that?”

“Yes, yes, my mistake,” Xu Zhiyi said, her eyes curving into a beautiful crescent shape. “Director Wu’s reputation for nurturing newcomers is well-known in the industry. I admit I was wrong, I admit it.”

Wu Jun knew Xu Zhiyi was just teasing him.

His original intention had been to temper the newcomers’ patience before teaching them properly, but now that Xu Zhiyi had pointed it out, he did feel it wasn’t right to leave all the menial tasks to Ruan Yang. He lowered his head in thought for a moment before saying, “Xiao Ruan, why don’t you stay by my side later and observe how I direct?”

Ruan Yang first glanced at Xu Zhiyi, then nodded at the director. “Okay.”

Soon, filming began, and Ruan Yang quietly watched Xu Zhiyi through the lens.

This seemed to be the first time Ruan Yang had seen Xu Zhiyi act. Every smile, every gesture seemed to carry a wealth of emotion, an Xu Zhiyi she had never seen before.

Over the course of the afternoon, Ruan Yang learned a great deal by staying close to the director. Theory and practice were different, after all, and Wu Jun was a dedicated teacher. Between takes, he took the time to guide Ruan Yang, sharing his insights and experience. Ruan Yang gained a lot from it.

The final scene of the afternoon involved Xu Zhiyi, seated in a palanquin moving along the palace path, being startled by a suddenly appearing cat and falling out of the carriage.

A crew member approached, saying the cat they had brought in didn’t seem to be in the right state and asked if they should proceed.

The director stood up and stroked the black cat’s head, but it suddenly bared its teeth and let out a low growl.

After some consideration, the director decided to proceed. “Let’s continue. We’ve been falling behind schedule these past few days. If we delay any further, the investors won’t be happy.”

Still, the lead actor’s opinion mattered. At the end of the palace path, the director asked, “What do you think, Zhiyi? Can we go ahead? I’ll have someone try to calm the cat down so it doesn’t hurt you.”

Xu Zhiyi was in the middle of touch-ups and didn’t pay much attention to the question. She nodded. “Yes, let’s continue, Director.”

As dusk settled, Xu Zhiyi, playing the princess in lavish robes, was carried by palace attendants to meet the emperor.

On camera, Xu Zhiyi reclined lazily in the palanquin, her fingertips pressed to her forehead, her brows tightly knit as if deeply troubled by something.

Suddenly, a black cat peeked out from atop the palace wall, its gleaming eyes starkly visible in the dim light.

It padded along the wall, glancing around before fixing its gaze on Xu Zhiyi in the distance.

Xu Zhiyi remained with her eyes closed, unaware of the danger creeping toward her.

Under the faint moonlight, the black cat seemed to have locked onto its target. It bared its teeth fiercely, then suddenly leaped forward, charging straight toward the center of the crowd.

“Ah!” The cat’s claws tangled in Xu Zhiyi’s hair, eliciting a sharp scream from her as she flailed her hands wildly in the air.

“Quick, lower the sedan! Protect Her Highness!” The lead eunuch, realizing something was amiss, urgently shouted in his shrill voice. “Hurry and get this wretched creature off the princess!”

Xu Zhiyi, along with the sedan, was hastily set down on the ground. The palace servants swarmed forward in a frenzy, but the princess was far too delicate, no one dared to grab the cat too roughly.

Through the camera lens, Xu Zhiyi’s eyes darkened, a flicker of shock passing through them as she raised her hands and gripped the cat’s two front paws.

The loose strands of hair at her temples were disheveled, hanging limply by her ears, and the rouge at the corners of her lips had smudged slightly during the struggle.

Yet, it only made her look even more breathtakingly beautiful.

The cat’s claws continued to swipe wildly, its eyes filled with a vicious glint, as if it had been drugged, its sole intent was to scratch Xu Zhiyi’s face.

“Director Wu,” Ruan Yang watched the scene through the camera, her usually calm eyes now tinged with urgency. “Aren’t you going to call cut?”

In the script, the black cat was only supposed to bump into Xu Zhiyi, mess up her hair, and then run off. With her hairstyle ruined, the princess, played by Xu Zhiyi would be unable to appear before the emperor and would have to return to redo her hair. By the time she reentered the palace, she would have missed the chance to plead for her beloved.

The black cat’s appearance in the script was extremely brief, it wasn’t supposed to cling to Xu Zhiyi like this.

Wu Jun’s expression was grave as well. Gripping the megaphone, he was ready to call cut at any moment.

He could sense Ruan Yang’s anxiety, and he shared her concern. But Xu Zhiyi in the frame was still fully immersed in the scene, showing no intention of stopping.

After a moment of thought, he said, “Let’s wait a little longer.”

If they got this scene in one take, Xu Zhiyi wouldn’t have to endure another round of scratches from the cat.

Ruan Yang clenched her lower lip, her gaze fixed on Xu Zhiyi, who was still struggling with the cat in the frame.

She knew the initiative for this scene now lay entirely with Xu Zhiyi. Only if Xu Zhiyi called for a stop would the scene truly end.

The eyes of everyone on set were locked onto Xu Zhiyi. The crew members outside the frame were sweating profusely, itching to step in and pull the cat off her themselves.

If the cat really hurt Xu Zhiyi, they’d be torn apart by both the director and her fans.

The black cat might have been small, but it was surprisingly strong.

A thin layer of sweat had formed on Xu Zhiyi’s nose. After all, she was an Omega, and she rarely exercised. After struggling with the cat for so long, her hands were starting to tremble.

She had sprayed a specific cat-attracting perfume in her hair to ensure the cat only messed up her hairstyle. But for some reason, the cat’s claws kept aiming for her face.

This couldn’t go on any longer.

Xu Zhiyi glanced at the palace servants around her, spotting a less crowded corner. Making up her mind, she mustered all her strength into her hands and flung the cat away.

The moment she threw it, the director swiftly clapped the board and shouted, “Cut!”

“Sister Zhiyi!” Jiang Jiang had been watching anxiously from the side. The moment the director called “Cut,” she rushed over frantically, “Are you okay?”

The background actors dressed in palace attire helped Xu Zhiyi up. Her face was slightly pale as she took the thermos from Jiang Jiang and sipped some hot water, shaking her head. “I’m fine.”

The bun on her head was completely disheveled, the hairpin dangling precariously on the verge of falling. The pendant swayed back and forth, reflecting bright glimmers under the lights.

Not far away, the black cat had already been scooped up by a crew member. The staffer was murmuring in relief that nothing serious had happened and was about to carry the cat away when it let out another low growl, its back arching sharply.

The cat’s eyes were fixed intently on the swaying pendant near Xu Zhiyi’s cheek.

Ruan Yang was walking over with the director, having been observing the black cat’s behavior. Seeing the cat’s agitation flare up again, she quickened her pace, striding swiftly toward Xu Zhiyi.

In that same second, the black cat’s fur bristled all over. It wriggled out of the crew member’s arms, kicked off forcefully against their face with its hind legs, and leaped once more toward Xu Zhiyi.

Ruan Yang’s eyes widened.

Her heart plummeted in that instant. Covering the remaining few meters, she sprinted faster than she ever had in her life.

“Zhiyi!”

Amid the chorus of voices calling Xu Zhiyi’s name, one stood out the most.

Xu Zhiyi turned her head and saw Ruan Yang charging toward her.

Suddenly, the scene felt eerily familiar.

Before she could pinpoint why, Ruan Yang had already pulled her into an embrace, shielding her head with an arm.

Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed something flying toward them.

Memories from the past surged into her mind. Without a moment’s hesitation, Xu Zhiyi instinctively raised her hand to protect Ruan Yang’s face.

Many, many years later, whenever Xu Zhiyi recalled this moment, she still couldn’t find the right words to describe the sense of security Ruan Yang had given her at that time.

Nestled in Ruan Yang’s arms, breathing in the familiar scent of pinewood, for an instant, all sound faded away.

All she could hear was a steady thump, thump.

A sound she hadn’t heard in over twenty years.

The sound of a racing heartbeat.

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